Algebra class is rife with boyish attitude
by brightmoor
Summary: Draco gets a Howler, Ron and Hermy snog, weird things happen. Snape is a chipmunk because someone spiked his pumpkin juice. Harry tries to fix it but Snape gets really drunk. This is a prime example of why I shouldn't be allowed to write in Algebra class.


"...And an announcement to all Gryffindors, your Potions class will be cancelled today."

The cheer from the Gryffindors was immediate. Slytherin glared, Ravenclaw looked jealous, and Hufflepuff stared on in admiration of the awesomeness they would never be.

"Wonder why?" asked Harry, sipping pumpkin juice. "And why on earth do we drink pumpkin juice? How do you juice a pumpkin?"

"It wasn't us," said Fred.

"Certainly not," replied George.

Harry shook his head. "I never said it was you; haven't you just incriminated yourselves?"

"Nope."

"Because this time--"

"--It really wasn't us."

"I guess we'll never know, then," said Ron.

Suddenly, Neville was barreling toward them, crying "Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

"What, Neville?" shouted Harry.

"Professor McGonagall says that Snape wants Harry to go to potions anyway," Neville cried.

"What! Unicorn turds."

"Well, it mustn't be very important if they told Neville," Hermione said.

"Yeah, who would tell Neville anything important?" laughed Ron.

Neville cleared his throat. Ron stopped laughing and said, "You know, you can go to the Hospital Wing if you've got a cough."

Neville lowered his head and walked away, promising himself that he wouldn't cry

"Anyway," said Hermione, "I wonder why Snape wants you in Potions. It can't be anything good."

"You'll get through it, right mate? I hope he doesn't ruin your whole day," Ron said. "Oh look, owls."

Indeed, the Hogwarts parliament was flying in through the windows. Harry noticed that Draco's owl had a fat red envelope clasped in its talons.

"Oh my god, you guys," said Ron, "Malfoy's got a Howler."

Fred and George exchanged glances, Ron snickered evilly, and Hermione calculated the owl's trajectory in 3.2 seconds flat.

All eyes were on Draco as the owl landed in front of him. He gulped, took a breath, and opened the envelope, cringing.

"DRACO ABRAXAS LUCIUS MALFOY!"

"Uh-oh," Goyle said with all the intelligence of a wet sponge. "She used your whole name."

"No, really?" snapped Draco.

"I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, YOUNG MAN! IF—YOU—EVER...! HOW _DARE_ YOU! JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE AT HOGWARTS, YOUNG MAN, DOES _NOT_ MEAN THAT YOU ARE EXCUSED FROM LITTERBOX DUTY!_** EVER!!!**_"

The Howler imploded; Draco started crying and ran out of the Great Hall. It took approximately three seconds for everyone, including the professors and Slytherin, to start laughing.

Fred and George glanced at each other and snickered.

"No," said Hermione. "You _didn't._..!"

"Oh, but young lady--"

"---We did!" finished George.

"You did this?" Hermione shrieked.

"First rule: prank Slytherins."

"Second rule: _don't_ prank professors."

"So you see Harry--"

"--We couldn't've done whatever it is to Snape."

Harry looked around and saw that people were beginning to leave.

"Time to go," he said.

"Hey mate, good luck," said Ron.

Harry trudged to the Potions classroom fully expecting to copy lines or clean cauldrons for some minor transgression he's committed last Thursday. He was not expecting Snape to need his help in any way.

He heard Snape's oily "Mister Potter" as soon as he reached the door, but there was something different about it. Harry couldn't exactly put his finger on it, but he knew it was definitely different. But what, Harry thought, was different about it? What could it have been? What was--

"Hey, I thought it was 'show, don't tell', Narrator," Harry said. "Could you possibly drag it out anymore? I never even wondered about it that much."

Oh, bugger off, you git. I'm working on it.

A-_hem_. As I was _trying_ to say before I was so_ rudely_ interrupted, Snape's voice seemed higher than normal.

"Mister Potter, we mustn't lurk in doorways. Come in, come in."

Harry entered the room and found that the professor was a chipmunk.

"What--"

"It seems someone's spiked my pumpkin juice with a rather nasty potion that has, most likely only temporarily, transfigurated me into a chimunk."

"But that doesn't explain why—I mean, why do you need my help? Why not Draco Malfoy?"

"Draco Malfoy!" exclaimed Snape. He put his paws on his hips. "I wouldn't trust that lout, nor his father, as far as I could throw them."

Harry was quiet for a moment.

"I get it, because you're a chipmunk, you definitely couldn't throw them very far, yeah..."

"You're a bit of a git aren't you?"

"What?"

"I said, can you uncork this flask for me?"

"Um, sure."

Harry grabbed the small silver flask.

"The cork," said Snape.

Harry moved his hand a little.

"The cork," repeated Snape.

Harry moved his hand a little more.

"Cork."

Up.

"Cork."

Up.

"Cork, cork, cork, cork, cork, cork, STOP!"

Harry froze, his hand on the cork.

"Good, now twist to the left and pull it out."

Harry twisted to the right and managed to push the cork into the flask.

"Damn it, boy, how do you manage to dress yourself in the morning? Five hundred thousand points from Gryffindor because you're such an ignoramus. Just give me it."

Harry set it on the desk next to Chippy—I mean, Snape—and Snape grabbed it with his ickle-bitty adorable fluffy chipmunk paws. Aww!

Ahem.

Snape tipped the flask up to his little chipmunky head.

Harry heard a muffled "Ah, wonderful."

"Yes, anyway," Snape said, re-corking the flask. "Now to turn me human again."

"What the hell was that for, then?!" cried Harry.

"Anyway, we'll need... well, actually, I think I can trust you to figure it out. Extra credit for Potions if you can. I bet your father would've been able to."

Harry would stand for no-one attacking his father's memory, so he set to work straightaway, annoying Snape all the while.

"Would a bezoar work?"

Snape sighed. "No, bezoars only work for poisons. Think, Potter."

"A spell? Counterspell? How about_ animalius tamias reversio?"_

"You absolute git, spells only work against spells. We need a potion, an elixir, a poultice, something drinkable."

"I give up! Take as many points from Gryffindor as you'd like, but you're insufferable. Sir."

"I haven't a clue, Potter. I suppose I'm stuck this way for a while, or until Dumbledore sees fit to fix it." Snape hiccoughed. "Where's my flask gone?"

"You're holding it, sir. I think you're drunk."

"Drunk? Never. My father used to get drunk, you know. I never liked him much. That's why I have issues with all your snot-noses, you've got dads who loved you..."

Harry snuck out of the room and tiptoed back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Godric's knickers," said Harry. The portrait swung open, and Harry found Ron and Hermione snogging on the sofa.

"He's gone off. Daft. Worse than Loony Lovegood."

The lovebirds jumped at the sound of Harry's voice. The quickly sat up and cleared their throats and fiddled with their hair.

"That's not so, no-one's worse than her," Ron said. Hermione thwacked him on the ear. "Ow!"

"He's so drunk, he's started babbling about how his daddy never loved him. Oh, and someone turned him into a chipmunk this morning."

Hermione looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Hermione.

She let out the weirdest laugh ever, and of course Ron thought it was totally adorable (but he would probably never tell her.) Harry started giggling, and soon Ran was guffawing.

"What're all you hyenas laughing about?" asked Fred, popping from the woodwork.

"What's so funny, hm?" said George.

"Snape's—a—chipmunk!" said Ron, wiping his eyes between giggles.

"A chipmunk? Good work!"

"We still don't know who did it, but we've got a hunch."

"Who?" cried Ron and Harry.

"Professor Lupin," whispered the twins.

"No way!" cried Harry. "Professor Lupin wouldn't do such a--"

"What wouldn't I do?"

The voice startled all five of them. They all turned to face Lupin.

"You know about Snape, right? Why the potions class is cancelled? Sir?" asked Fred.

"Know about it? Why, all the professors do. Why?"

"We were just wondering, um, why it's cancelled."

"Because I turned Snape into a chipmunk, obviously," said Lupin matter-of-factly.

"Uh, why?" asked Hermione.

"Testing a new potion. Never liked the git much anyhow. Needs to wash his hair, if you ask me."

"He's completely drunk, Professor. He can't handle his liquor with such a small body," Hermione whined; the Gryffindor she was, she wanted to help him.

"Don't fret it, he'll be back by tomorrow. Or maybe not. Did I mention it was an experimental potion?"

"Professor! Fix him!"

"Alright, alright. I'll go hold his hair back while he pukes up all the alcohol he's downed, then I'll give him the antidote. See you later." Lupin Apparated to the Slytherin Dungeons.

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"I want to be like Lupin when I grow up."

"A masterpiece."

"Indeed."

* * *

"Whod've thunk?" Ron said over breakfast. "Lupin actually did fix him."

"Well he wouldn't let him stay like that, you know. He's a Gryffindor, after all. I'd've placed him in Ravenclaw, myself, but..."

"Will you two stop flirting? God, I'm going to lose my breakfast," said Fred.

"RON AND HERMIONE SITTING IN A TREE--" began George. Hermione started to slap him, but so did Ron, and Ron, like a gentleman, let Hermione go first.

The next day, someone had stuck all of Snape's things to the ceiling with a Permanent Sticking Charm. All the Gryffindors had a hunch...


End file.
